Looking a Gift Horse in the Mouth
by Aiden Aterangelus
Summary: Ron is very surprised by his Christmas presents.


Title: Looking a gift horse in the mouth  
Author: aidendavis  
Archive:Author's Live Journal  
Pairing: Harry/Ron  
Category:Comedy  
Rating:PG-13  
Warnings:Slash  
Spoilers: Christmas in the 7th book, I hope  
Summary:Harry says a lot without saying anything, Ron finally gets more presents than he bargained for, and well... you'll have to read it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry, Ron, or any of the Weasleys. They all belong to the great and powerful JK Rowling.

On Christmas morning, Ronald Weasley always got up early.

He sits up straight, his eyes wide open, and looks at his watch. 6 in the morning. _Man, I get up later every year._ He races over to Harry's bed, about to violently shake him into wakefulness, but a peaceful expression stops his hand. He bites his lip. _God. He's even cuter when he's sleeping._ Ron stands there, watching his best mate breathing, and wishing he had the courage to make it more. For the first time in his life, Ron decides he's ok with waiting to open presents. Which lasts about five minutes. He reaches down and shakes Harry like a red-headed step child. Well, a raven-haired one, anyway. Harry slowly opens his eyes and pushes Ron away. He rolls on to his side, away from his best mate, and waves him off.

Ron sighs impatiently.

"Come _on!_ It's Christmas morning, and you are getting up! You know how much I hate waiting for this!"

Harry rolls back towards Ron, and his eyes are wide open. And he has a big silly grin on his face. And he nods. So Ron punches him in the shoulder.

Ron neglects his previous tradition of literally dragging Harry out of bed, and goes straight to his pile of presents.

He grabs a rather lumpy package that he had seen many times before. "Might as well get this over with." He rips open the paper, but no maroon meets his eyes. No jumper with a big ugly 'R' on it. Out of the package comes a green scarf, rolling out on the floor. A deep green. A green he sees nearly every day, at school, and nearly every night, in his dreams. It's the green that drew him into Harry. The green of the eyes that he won't allow himself to get lost in. At the end of the scarf, there's a small piece of parchment. Ron picks it up and reads: 'Someone told me you were a bit tired of maroon.'

He looks over to Harry, saying, "You'll never guess what Mum sent me. She…" He stops. Harry's already staring at him, still sitting on the bed, and smiling with the same evil grin.

"It was you, wasn't it?"

Harry nods.

"But how did she; how did you know about … this… color?"

Harry shrugs.

"But do you know…" _about me?_ He is too terrified to speak the words.

Harry nods, his brilliant green eyes looking straight into Ron's mind. Ron panics; he had been so careful, so meticulous about hiding, well, everything.

"When did you find out about… it?"

Harry shrugs. Ron's heart races.

"And you're… ok? That I'm… well…"

Harry nods. Ron's heart nearly beats out of his chest.

"But what about you? Do… you…"

Harry points to a small package in Ron's pile. It just says, To Ron, but it's in a handwriting he knows very well. The nervous red-head rips through the paper, poking himself with the contents.

"Ow!" He looks at the gift in his lap like, well, a little kid at Christmas. Mistletoe.

Harry is already moving toward him, grin still in place. Ron tenses as full, gentle lips meet his. But soothing hands slide around his back, and he quickly relaxes into his first kiss.

"Mmm…" Ron opens his lips with the moan, and Harry needs no further invitation. The rest of the world ceases to exist for the red-head as the tongue of The Boy Who Lived decides to come over and play.

Ron's hands explore Harry's back, slowly, tentatively, as though still afraid this is a dream. But it isn't and so they must break for air.

"Wow." Ron pauses, looking for a more appropriate word. Apparently there isn't one. "Wow."

Harry nods.

A thought comes to Ron, and he looks at Harry worriedly. "Erm, how am I going to tell my family? I mean, they kind of expected, well, Hermione…"

Harry gestures to the pile of gifts still remaining.

Ron's face discovers new shades of red never seen before as he opens each present.

From Bill, _Wild Wizards Uncovered,_ a magazine who's cover says (and shows) it all.

From Charlie, a tube of _Strawberry Slip 'n' Slide,_ which promises to make hard things go nice and easy.

From Percy, a book; _Safety and Sex in the wizarding world: how to avoid crumpled paranusis, and other diseases._

From Fred and George, a box of chocolates labeled _positively stimulating_ in one of the twins handwriting. Ron decides that he will never try any of them without a tester. And at this particular moment, Harry seems a likely candidate.

From his father, a box of condoms, with a note that simply says, _'we need to talk.'_  
And last but certainly not least, Ginny's is worst of all. Ron opens up the box to find a small bottle filled with a silvery liquid, and covered with flashy labeling. _'Super-size your pleasure and pep up your potency.'_ Ron dares read no more.

Ron looks at Harry, his jaw somewhere near the floor.

"Did you…"

Harry nods.

"I'm never speaking to you again. For that matter, none of my family, either. At least Hermione will..."

Ron is stopped by the rapidly widening smile on Harry's face.

"No. No, that's not possible. You told…"

Harry simply indicates the lone present left in Ron's pile.

Ron recognizes the distinctively clean handwriting on the package indicating that this gift is indeed for him. He feels the package carefully. A book. _Books are safe, right?_ He opens the wrapping paper slowly, not in a rush to be proven wrong. The book drops to his lap as he reads the title.

"The Gay Kama Sutra? Just out of curiosity, did everyone know about this but me?"

Harry nods.

"Hey, you haven't opened any of your presents!"

Harry walks over to his pile and grabs a lumpy package. He unwraps it, and smiles wide.

Ron can't see it. "What is it? What did she send you?"

Harry is smiling from ear to ear as he turns around and displays a maroon jumper with a great big ugly 'H' on it.


End file.
